


Between the Shadow and the Soul

by theroyalsavage



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: (believe me), (still dorks though), (they're older), Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Romance, Valentine's Day Fluff, probably an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3376052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroyalsavage/pseuds/theroyalsavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of snow, fumbling kisses, Valentine's mornings, and the imperfect science of falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Shadow and the Soul

_I love you as certain dark things are loved,_

_secretly, between the shadow and the soul._

_…_

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,_

_I love you simply, without problems or pride:_

_I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving_

-Pablo Naruda (Sonnet XVII)

That Valentine’s Day, it snowed for hours. When Nico looked back on it, the whole day seemed awash in white in his memory, coated in delicate tendrils of pale blue ice.

He woke up too early – the sky still stained pre-dawn gray, like peeling paint – and rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb the form curled under the covers next to him. The comforter had been pulled up so high, was being clutched so tightly around gently shivering shoulders all Nico could see was a messy crown of golden hair.

He dressed quickly, almost aggressively, and looked out the frost-lined window instead of at the bed, because falling snow seemed a lot safer than another person.

Two hearts beating in his bedroom, instead of one. Two sets of fumbling, awkward hands and two layers of breathing, a symphony of quiet noises and broken whispers. It seemed profoundly wrong, jarring, after so many years of empty _nothing_. How had it happened, how had it happened? He wasn’t really sure. He figured it probably _started_ slowly, because everything Nico did was slow, careful, well thought-out and meticulously planned (the two bodies in the room were opposites, in that respect).

There was nothing slow about it now. Everything was violent, amplified, electric. It was startling, somehow both beautiful and terrible at the same time.

The form in the bed shifted. There was a soft sigh, a releasing of breath, and then a head emerged from under the layers of blankets, and blue eyes met black.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Will mumbled. He smiled a little, and it washed over Nico like light, like truth.

“Don’t call me that,” Nico grumbled, sinking down onto the end of the bed to yank socks onto his feet.

“Sure thing, Death Breath,” Will chirped from behind him.

“That’s worse,” Nico growled back, but it was difficult to sound irritable when Will leaned over and threaded his bare arms around Nico’s waist, brushing his lips against the exposed skin on the back of Nico’s neck.

“What should I call you, then?”

“How about _Nico_ , dumbass?”

“So pedestrian. Everybody calls you Nico.”

“Yeah, well, everybody calls you Will, and that doesn’t bother me.”

“I’m a man of simple desires, love.” Nico felt Will grin against his skin when his shoulders stiffened at the word. “Oooh, there we are. You like that one?”

“It’s better than Death Breath, anyway.” He’d _tried_ to sound offhand, but his voice had broken a little. He could feel the vibration of Will’s laughter in his chest.

“I have a proposal,” Will murmured against Nico’s hair.

“Mmm?” Will’s lips were underneath the collar of his shirt now, precisely in the middle of his shoulders, and Nico was finding it very, _very_ difficult to concentrate.

“We close the shades, drag the fridge in here, and then spend the rest of our lives living as hermits.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “You can’t sit still for five minutes, Solace, and you expect me to believe that you want to live in _this_ place for the rest of your life?”

“You haven’t even heard the best part yet, and you’re already putting my ideas down! This is a no-judgment zone!”

“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s the best part?”

When Will spoke again, it was very, very close to Nico’s ear. “I bet you can guess,” he purred, and _gods above_ Nico just about went boneless.

Then the warmth on his throat disappeared and the bed shifted, and Nico whipped around indignantly to watch Will roll off, jump to his feet, and stretch. The warm tan of his skin looked even deeper in the early morning light. Nico followed the lines of his shoulders – quite a bit broader than his own, and dotted with freckles and little white scars. His golden hair stood up in the back. How did Will manage to make even _bedhead_ attractive?

 “That’s cheating,” Nico growled at him.

“Well, you seemed to think it was a bad idea, so—”

“I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

Nico scowled. “Didn’t think it was a bad idea.”

Will grinned at him over his shoulder. “You know, you’re just confirming my suspicions.”

“What suspicions?”

“That you’re just using my for my body.”

Nico snorted. “ _Please_. If I wanted to use somebody for their body, I would’ve asked Jason—”

He caught the pillow before it hit him in the face, but just barely.

It was odd, Nico mused, as he sat and quietly watched Will pull an old t-shirt over his head. Liking Percy Jackson had always been so _complicated_. Everything seemed layered, crisscrossing lines and overanalyzed touches and painful, unrequited obsession. Loving Will was somehow simpler. That was insane, wasn’t it? He felt so much stronger for Will than he had for Percy, and yet it hurt less.

There was a low chuckle from across the room, and Nico jerked out of his reverie to the realization that he’d been caught staring like an idiot. There was a soft smile curling Will’s lips, all of the wicked mirth from earlier warming into something gentle and quiet.

“Breakfast, love?” he prompted.

“Oh, right, sorry.”

Will grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet, bright, alert, _kinetic_ already, even though he’d woken only minutes before. “Pancakes? Please? _Pretty_ please?”

“You’re so high maintenance, Solace.”

“You love it, though.”

Nico sighed and crossed the room to press his lips to the taller man’s collarbone. “I love _you_ ,” he corrected, and it was true. Will was imprinted on Nico, somewhere between the shadow and the soul.

He didn’t think he knew any other way of loving him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is two days late I'm sorrrrry - I promise I wrote it on Valentine's Day, I just never got around to posting.  
> I literally have no idea where this came from since V-Day is like my least favorite holiday ever.  
> (Comments are better than heart-shaped chocolate. And I really, really like chocolate.)


End file.
